Goodbye
by georgemygeorge
Summary: House is leaving and Wilson finally lets him know how he truly feels.


My friend and I came up with this idea for the final episode of House a few years ago. By this point in the series, we decided, nothing has happened between the two and now, for whatever reason, House has to go far far away (maybe to a different country? hmm...) so... he probably will never see Wilson again.

Hope you enjoy!

Goodbye

House studied Wilson's face, the boyishly handsome face of one of the only people he could truly call a friend. Their eyes met and the oncologist held House's gaze earnestly.

An emotion shone hesitantly in the younger man's dark eyes that House hadn't expected. He tried to name it: something akin to affection. No, he'd seen that in Wilson's eyes before; it wouldn't unsettle him like this.

This was something…deeper, stronger than the friendly affection that Wilson usually exhibited. Not just his eyes but his whole body exuded a powerful, deep-seated feeling of wanting, needing; a flickering desire that Wilson was reluctant to show. His shoulders were tense and his arms were crossed over his chest, physically blocking himself and his feelings off from House.

Wilson saw the quizzical, searching look in House's bright blue eyes and sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. He glanced around the almost empty office in an attempt to avoid House's increasingly knowing gaze that mingled with a hint of smug satisfaction.

"You know, it's awkward silences like these that lead me to question the nature of our relationship," House said, matter-of-factly.

Wilson regarded him, his mind racing. Had House seen the desirous look in his eyes, one that he had tried for so long to conceal? He cleared his throat nervously. "I, uh…"

"Don't worry, your secret's safe with me," House declared somewhat sarcastically, adding an overdone wink for emphasis.

Wilson smiled weakly, running a hand through his hair.

He stopped abruptly when House placed his hands on his shoulders and drew him into a hug. Wilson tensed and cautiously wrapped his arms around House.

"I might be wrong, but I think this is what people do to say goodbye to a friend, even if that friend can be a pain in the—"

Wilson tightened his grip around House, prompting him to stop mid-sentence. "We're having a moment here, Greg. Try not to spoil it," he said quietly.

They stood together for some time, each with his own thoughts, the awkward hug gradually becoming a tender and sentimental embrace.

Knowing this may be the last time he would see House, Wilson decided that now was a good a time as any to confess his feelings.

"Greg, I—"

"Don't spoil the moment, James," House said, echoing Wilson's words and turning them against him, something he was quite skilled at. He pulled away with a satisfied smirk on his face, that disappeared when Wilson, stepping back, brushed his lips against House's cheek, so softly that House thought he imagined it.

He looked at Wilson incredulously. He had seen the desire in Wilson's eyes, even before today, but honestly hadn't expected him to act on it.

Wilson opened his mouth to speak, his eyes wide, startled by his own forwardness. Before a word could pass his lips, House put a hand on Wilson's shoulder, squeezing it gently, and gave him a look, surprised yet understanding. Wilson slowly closed his mouth realizing that House had figured out everything.

They looked at each other, neither able to articulate the words they wanted to say.

Having known Wilson for so long, House knew that no words were needed. They could communicate volumes to each other just through their gazes. Now his blue eyes shone with the ever-present love he felt for his friend. Wilson's were full of a deeper affection than he had ever shown. Their silent conversation was short but meaningful.

"You know I've always felt this way," House's eyes clearly said.

"Yes, I realize that now."

Wilson turned to leave and noticed one of House's old, beat-up canes leaning against the wall in the corner. He looked at House inquiringly. House glanced at the cane then back at Wilson. He shrugged and nodded, his face blank. Wilson strode slowly to the corner and bending over slightly, wrapped his hand around the middle of the cane. He silently left House's office, smiling sadly.

House watched him leave. Once he had disappeared down the corridor, House smiled, a wistful but somewhat satisfied look in his eyes. He sighed and collected the remaining items in his office, unceremoniously shoving them into his backpack. As he left the office, he looked at his name on the glass door, knowing it would soon be replaced by some young, inexperienced, just-out-of-med-school doctor's name. He chuckled quietly and limped to the elevators, to his motorcycle, and his new life.


End file.
